about

what stays, when nothing else does.

the practice

stillwords is small on purpose. lowercase. unhurried. written the way mornings happen — in fragments, in margins, in the space between two cups of tea.

nothing here is here to convince anyone of anything. the lines that survive a week are the ones that get kept. the rest are released.

no manifesto. no schedule. just the quieter end of language, gathered slowly.

the rhythm

morning.tea.one window.one line at a time.